


Breaking the Prince from His Shell

by MegumitheGreat



Category: Trusty Bell: Chopin no Yume | Eternal Sonata
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempt at Humor, Feel-good, Gen, Revolution, Shenanigans, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegumitheGreat/pseuds/MegumitheGreat
Summary: While waiting for Baroque to move to war with Forte, Allegretto and his friends are stuck inside playing cards.  They haven't seen Prince Crescendo in a while, and  with nothing better to do, the boys attempt to break the prince out of his shell.





	Breaking the Prince from His Shell

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written any for Eternal Sonata in years, but it's still one of my favorite games. It's also very different from what I usually write. The game is overall cute, so what better way to be cute than to make all of the adorable idiots get up to stupid shenanigans? :D

During the week before Frederic and his comrades were supposed to set out to Forte with Jazz and Prince Crescendo to convince Waltz to end his production of mineral powder and the taxation of everything that wasn’t mineral powder, they were all told to stay put in snow-covered Baroque until the time came. Prince Crescendo had locked himself in his study to think about the best course of action. He was a pacifist, unwillingly to go to war with the young count if it could be avoided. To that end, Beat and Salsa were worried that he would get sick from sitting inside brooding all day. The children, excluding March, had asked Allegretto and Frederic to get him to come out.

“The Captain is gonna miss all that fun if he just locks himself up all day,” Beat whined. “You gotta get him out of there.” It was after one of the hundreds of games of Old Maid that he had played with Salsa and Viola.

“I don’t think it’s actually a good idea to disturb him,” Frederic said from a sofa where he sat with a pen and paper to write music. “After all, he’s got a very important decision to make.”

“You’ve got a point,” Allegretto considered by the window. “Let’s talk to Jazz about it, then.”

“Hold on, if you’re going to talk to Jazz,” Viola started before quickly falling silent. Allegretto, Frederic, and Beat all turned to the goat herder. Wide-eyed and tight-lipped, she flicked her gaze from one to another.

“Oh-ho? Is there something you were expecting to say?” Salsa teased. “Well, why don’t ya tell us?”

“I…I was just going to say, that if you’re going to talk to Jazz…” Viola searched for the words. “You…should invite him on this little escapade…”

“Ooh, why?”

“B-Because…he can help talk to Prince Crescendo!”

“Ooh, why?”

Frederic let out a sigh. Any sort of cockamamie plots borne from the boredom of sitting in a castle with nothing to do was inherently a bad idea, but he felt compelled to entertain the figures of his imagination. Aside from Viola and Jazz and Crescendo, everyone else was something of child to him.

“Viola, would you know where—”

“Oh, would you look at the time! I promised Polka that I would help her wash her hair!” Viola cut Frederic off as quickly as she could. She bolted out of the drawing room as fast as her legs could go to find the magic-wielding girl. That left the composer, the spry youth, the child photographer, and the spunky forest guardian.

“Who does she think she’s foolin’?” Salsa asked.

“Well, the only thing we can do now is just find Jazz and get him to help us out,” Allegretto sighed. “Let’s get going.”

Allegretto led the band of bored misfits through the castle in search of the rebellion group Andantino’s leader. The rough and tough guy would surely stand out against the prim and proper guests. His large greatsword alone would catch their eye. But they had no such luck in looking for him. To cover more ground, Allegretto suggested that they split up, and while Frederic had thought that was his chance to get out of this silly game of hide and seek, he knew he wouldn’t be left alone so easily. Salsa and Beat—who had been getting along rather well since the group had rejoined in Ritardando and fought ghosts together save for a certain teenaged boy—took to the second floor while Allegretto and Frederic searched the first floor and the garden.

The two children had run into Princess Serenade before long after she had tried to talk to her fiancé. When she asked why they wanted to see him, they simply told her that they were worried that he would get sick. A naïve notion, but she smiled and appreciated that they were worried about him.

Allegretto and Frederic had better luck. As soon as they stepped into the audience chamber where a few castle guests were standing and talking with others, they spotted the dark ponytail and leather uniform of Andantino’s leader Jazz. His gigantic sword was not on his person, mostly because he was asked to leave it in one of the guest rooms to avoid frightening others. Naturally, he complied; after all, he had been Prince Crescendo’s longest friend from childhood. It was a fact that his friends in Frederic’s troupe still had trouble believing at times.

“There you are,” Frederic politely said. He smiled at him.

“Frederic, Allegretto,” Jazz greeted. “Out for a walk around the castle?”

“We were actually wondering if you could help us to get the prince out of his room,” Allegretto, now realizing just how trivial this whole quest was, sheepishly told him. “Beat thought he would get sick just sitting in the dark.”

“That’s very thoughtful of him, but I think he would rather be alone at the moment. He said he wanted to think about Forte by himself for some time.”

“Try explaining that to Beat.”

“Perhaps we can bring him something to eat then? Though, I can’t say I’m a very good chef,” Frederic said with some modesty.

“There’s no harm; why don’t we get everyone else to help?” Frederic asked.

“Doesn’t the castle have their own cooks?” Allegretto asked. “We don’t need to make anything ourselves.”

“I suppose that is true,” the composer thought aloud.

“Oh, maybe a little combat practice?” Allegretto suggested.

“That might be…” Jazz rubbed the back of his neck. “We could try, but I’m not sure he would want to see me considering the current state of affairs.”

“It’ll be fine! If he’s angry at you, then he can fight you!”

Frederic and Jazz looked at the youngest of them with dubious looks. It couldn’t hurt to try, but they would rather have Allegretto go make a fool of himself instead of one of them. After all, he was still a teenager and not a grown man.

The three of them returned to Crescendo’s room on the second-floor east wing of Baroque Castle. The ever-present guard was there, and while his prince had requested that no visitors were, he was told that if Jazz or Allegretto or Frederic or anyone from their ragtag team of peasants, forest guardians, and rebels were to show up, they could enter at will. Jazz did remind them that he wanted to be alone, but Allegretto persevered. He opened the door to the room where Prince Crescendo was pacing back and forth, a furrowed brow and frown on his face. When he looked up, his countenance morphed into one of surprise.

“Jazz, I thought I told you that I wanted some alone time,” Prince Crescendo scolded. “And you brought Mr. Chopin and Allegretto as well?”

“This wasn’t my idea,” Jazz quickly deflected. “Allegretto, go ahead and explain.”

“W-Why me? Oh, alright,” Allegretto huffed. “Beat was worried about you being locked up in here and thought you should come out and…not be in here.”

“In fact, they were searching this floor for Jazz,” Frederic mentioned. “Did they come by?”

“I asked them to return to their frolic and play,” Prince Crescendo replied. “I don’t mean to be rude, but may I ask the same of you?”

Allegretto denied him. Instead, he walked to the window facing the city. The snow had been falling for what seemed like an eternity—and it very well may have been since Frederic was sure that scenery in dreams often were static and unchanging. The snow wasn’t packed, though. Allegretto had an idea.

“Hey, why don’t we throw a couple of snowballs around?” he suggested as he threw his thumb back at the window. “The snow’s perfect right now. Light and fluffy!”

“Please, I would really appreciate that we did not,” Prince Crescendo again tried to dissuade them.

Jazz and Frederic gave it serious thought. Per the rebel leader’s backstory that Frederic had assigned to him, he hadn’t reveled in childish games since he was old enough to start doing his share of work around his hometown. And naturally, Frederic never truly got to enjoy his life that was colored red from disease and war. There was no downside for them. They each grabbed a princely wrist.

“U-Unhand me!” Prince Crescendo ordered with some restraint.

“It’ll be fun!” Jazz told him with a smile.

“Precisely,” Frederic supported.

Allegretto pushed the prince forward by his back. “Let’s go before the snow gets hard!” Then his face lit up after he returned to the window. Beat had been walking around the front of the castle by himself looking somewhat defeated. “Perfect, Beat’s out there, too!”

“T-This isn’t something a prince should be doing!” Prince Crescendo protested again.

Jazz dragged his friend behind him. Frederic had since let go to wait on Allegretto, who seemed tickled that they were going to have a royal figure romp around like a child. Frederic would have liked Polka to join so he could have some semblance of playing with his sister, but when he considered that Allegretto was the one who suggested the idea and that his crush on her wasn’t a secret, he wondered if it would just make the small excursion an embarrassing accident waiting to happen. He decided not to go find her.

The boy and men found themselves outside in the little terrace to the side of the castle when they exited through the grand ballroom. Allegretto, again seeing Beat pass by, hurried over to the iron fence. He beckoned him in to join them, much to Prince Crescendo’s chagrin.

“I really need to get back to my work,” he tried to say while backing up to the doors.

Jazz took the initiative. He gathered up a handful of snow then packed it just tight enough so that the ball would travel through the air. He tossed it up and down in his hand as if to check the density. Then he hurled it at the prince.

The snowball splattered on his chest. Prince Crescendo stood still, quiet and calm for a moment. Jazz simply stared at him. He was waiting for him to do something. As the snow fell from Prince Crescendo’s clothes, he stooped down. He gathered a fair amount in his white-gloved hand, packed it, then pitched it at Jazz’s face without restraint.

“I’ll show you just how princely I am!” he taunted.

Allegretto dove behind a bush, stocking up on icy ammo while Frederic appeared to reacquaint himself with his inner kid. Beat took refuge next to his brother figure. He helped make piles and piles of snowballs.

“Ready, Beat?” Allegretto asked him. “On my mark, we fire!”

“You got it, Retto!” Beat responded.

“Frederic, I need assistance!” Prince Crescendo called the composer. “Jazz, prove to me the power of our friendship! Stand with me! We must defeat these menacing children!”

“Aye!” Jazz agreed.

Frederic let out a sigh. Why had he gone along with this idea? He, the prince, and the rebel leader hid behind one of the two benches on the terrace. Allegretto signaled to fire on them, and he and Beat threw snow ball after snow ball at them. When they began to run out of snowballs, Allegretto scrambled to make more only to find that their resources were starting to run low.

“We’re almost out of soft snow!” he warned his comrade.

“What do we do?!” Beat panicked.

“We’ll have to change our location.”

The onslaught ceased, giving Prince Crescendo time to retaliate. “Return fire!” he ordered. Jazz and Frederic pelted all the balls they had made at the bush, some breaking against the shrubbery and others sailing past it. Allegretto was the first to roll over behind to a new bush while Beat waited for an opening.

Frederic, from the safety of the bench, reached out to the side to grab more snow. Allegretto formed a new snow ball, and with a deft blow, he knocked the composer’s hat off of his head. At first, the latter was stunned; there was such bloodlust in the attack that he couldn’t tell if Allegretto was just playing rough or if he was getting seriously into the game.

“Beat, we have to get his hat! Only then we can win!” Allegretto declared with terrifying moxie.

“Jazz, secure the hat! We have a man down!” Crescendo bellowed.

Jazz dove for Frederic’s top hat, which frightened the composer. He really liked that hat, so if it were to get destroyed in the heat of battle, he would be devastated. He snatched the hat before his companion could grab it.

“Can’t something else be the trophy?” he nervously asked.

“Beat’s camera!” Jazz volunteered.

“What? No way!” Beat retorted from his post. “It’ll break!”

“The hat, it is!” Jazz volunteered again.

“No!” Frederic miffed.

Viola heard the commotion from the terrace, and while she wasn’t terribly interested to know what was going on, she wanted to know why Jazz was calling out different objects. She peeked from the doors leading back to the ballroom only to find him and Prince Crescendo and Frederic standing together with fierce determination.

“If we hit them hard and get out fast, we can win this!” Prince Crescendo decided. Armed to the teeth with snowballs, Jazz and Frederic once again returned fire. Prince Crescendo snuck over to Allegretto. “This ends now!”

A horrible scream resounded from behind the bush, striking fear in Beat’s little heart. He only saw Allegretto’s cold lifeless hand fall from behind it.

“Retto!” Beat cried out. “No, I can’t let him down! I’ll avenge you, Retto!”

Prince Crescendo stood over the pile of snow heaped on Allegretto. “Okay, one enemy commander down.”

Jazz decided now he could flank Beat. He left Frederic to keep throwing snowballs, worming his way over to the boy. When he was right on him, he—carefully—snatched the camera.

“Victory!” Jazz and Prince Crescendo announced.

Frederic finally stopped throwing snowballs, falling to his knees in exhaustion. His shoulders had been put through a wringer, and he couldn’t feel them anymore. “I’m…I’m too old for this…” he rasped into the white ground. He fell over, feigning death.

“Frederic!” Prince Crescendo gasped. He dashed to him, holding him in his arms. “Frederic…speak to me!”

The composer let out a dramatic cough—or perhaps it was a real one. He looked up at the prince with narrower brown eyes. He slowly reached up to his shoulder, clenching the thick fabric in his dainty fingers.

“It was…an honor…to serve you…” he choked. Then he passed out.

Prince Crescendo, completely enthralled in the cockamamie story that had developed, let out a restrained scream to the cloudy skies. Snow began to fall again.

“Prince Crescendo, we must tend to our wounded and seize the surviving enemy troops,” Jazz notified. “Also, I think Frederic and Allegretto are done for the day.”

Beat scurried over to his friend only to find that he was shivering, and his lips were turning blue. Jazz carried the youth inside to one of the guest rooms while Crescendo dragged Frederic on his shoulder behind him. They had completed ignored Viola, who hid behind the corner of the short hall. While they requested warm soup and hot chocolate to the room, the goat herder simply tried to register what she had witnessed in her lonesome.

Frederic woke up later that evening. Jazz and Prince Crescendo were standing by the window appearing to catch up on life and discuss the revolution efforts. The composer took a bowl of soup off the side table to his bed. He wanted to thank them for giving him a chance to, in a way, serve in a military; but he thought it would be strange. After all, they knew nothing of the real world—the November Uprising, his inability to serve his own country, and the frustration of supporting his people through his music. Even though it was an innocent game of snowballs, he somehow felt that it was something that would help Prince Crescendo with the impending war. But for now, the men seemed to want to enjoy the little things in life.

**Author's Note:**

> So I realized near the end that this spiraled into some really stupid shit, but I managed to use one of the scrapbook pictures as inspiration. I really love those pictures. That said, I've got some other ideas I want to do, maybe a longer fic as well.


End file.
